


Inflection

by Skellington101



Series: Whumptober 2019 [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Darkness, Dissociation, Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Explosions, Gen, Hurt Samis, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Major Character Injury, Memory Loss, Mental Instability, Mind Manipulation, Morally Ambiguous Character, Panic Attacks, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tangled Shore, Trauma, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-11-15 08:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20863019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellington101/pseuds/Skellington101
Summary: After the explosion, he struggled to pull himself away, losing most of his lower leg and damaging his chest.Luckily, there was someone to pull him out.A friend? Didn't have many of those these days.





	Inflection

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2! Explosionnnnnn! I could've made this one more fun and traumatic, but hey, I got introduce my favorite morally dubious Exo. And this is late too, but shhh, it's fine, I have at least completed it. 
> 
> Samis is an Exo Warlock, who I give a sort of mad scientist stereotype, but over time, he loses his emotions and personality after being in the Dark zones for a long time. He lost a lot of memories from resetting, but the darkness gave that back, even if temporarily. He used to be colder, but now he has feelings~~~! Wow, what a concept~!

Static roared in his ears. _Wake up._

Samis slowly came back to awareness, his senses slowly beginning to pick up where he passes out.

_Oh, right._ Memories came rushing back to him, the Prison of Elders, his lab being invaded, Taph’s glowing green eyes glaring him down, then the Lab’s explosion.

Not his finest moment, now that he thought about it.

Samis looked out, his vision flickering back in with no small amount of difficulty. Large chunks of debris landed all around him, crackling flames still roasting away on the broken pieces and melting the metal together in a distorted lump. The normally purplish sky of the Tangled Shore was darkened by a dense cloud of smoke, all emanating from his destroyed base next to him. _Not optimal circumstances. _

His vision was tinted and distorted, trying desperately to focus on the blobbish shapes around him.

_ **YOU CAN ̷̛͈̮͇̐͌̊̈͊̍͘͘͝T̴̢̗̥͎͔͎̤͋ ̴̛̞̹̺̃̈́̂̈́͛̆͑̔̂̾̍̄̊͝H̸̢̧̦̏͒̚Ï̸̳̗̤̅͑͠͝ ̶̣̦̲͎̄̋̄̄̆̇Ň̴̢̰̹̙̮̠̖̝̬̤̼̳̙̃͆͜͠K̵̢̛̛͓̞̲̦̩͚̺̠͚̤̟͊̾͐̈́̈́́͜ ̵̲̹̪̫͎͌̈́̑̊̅͌̈̽͊̏̔̾͘NOW** _

_ **YOU ARE A̵͚͊̈́̆͗̌̾̈́̃̈́̊͘L̷͎̬̝̺͍̦̙̮̹͎̫͙̯͂͒̈́̓͒̈́̇̏̚͜I̸͍͎͓̘̹̤̮̘̋͠V̷̡̛͚̪̖͔̮̰̈́̓̌ͅĚ̵̖͇͚͇͍̣̝͍̞̯̅͆͊͐̆̅̆̈́̈́̕͝͝͝ NOW** _

_ **THE B̵̡̨̟͎̩͑Ö̴̧͔̩̺̟̜͇̪͈͓̤̏̉͐͆̇ͅÖ̴̧̜̗̥͇̬́̄̿̂̏N̷̡̖͉͉̠̩̰͎̼̦̂͛͒͐̔͑̅̑͑̍̐͜͠͝S̸͖̹̳̼̩̻͐͜ OF YOUR LO Y AL T Y** _

** _WILL Ȃ̶̢̺̫̝̹̖̦̲͜R̵̰̯̣̋́̾͘R̸̘̱͚̺̲͉̰͍͎̻̺̰̖̔̓́͠ͅI̴̛̮̩̞͉̐͗͆̊͆̈́̚̚͜͠͠͝͠V̵̨̨̤͚̰̗̠̅̽̂̎͑̚ͅĘ̵̢͎̱̠̥̲̖͉̟͑͜_ **

His mechanical lungs stuttered to work, his chest ventilating with ragged breathing as he shifted up. Something snagged on his leg, and his vision shortened out, volts of pain arcing up his leg and shooting throughout his body. _F-Fuck--!_

His hands spasmed as he dug his fingers into the dirt, scraping uselessly against the ground to ride out the waves of pain. _This was a dumb fucking p-plan…_

If he had time to do anything, then he sure as hell wouldn’t have blown up his lab. Decades of work, gone. Indignation and frustration bubbled up in his throat, but he forced the old, familiar emotions down as he thought back to the lab.

A tactical mess on both of their parts. Taph charged into his base, furious as all hell and looking to kill, as usual, and he was getting his new affairs in order to keep business running with the Spider while he would be gone.

_Unearthly, vibrant green eyes glared back at him, boring into his head and clawing out his thoughts. _

_“You can’t run away from this!”_

Too bad that plan wouldn’t really work now, considering he’d blown up the goods. But, he’d drawn off her anger from his actions to his _other_ actions now, the chaos at the Prison of Elders. Not his fault, technically. The first prisoners breaking out may have been caused by him, but everything later was done by the prisoners. So, not his fault.

_“Ah, but I’m not running anymore.” _

_She froze._

_“I’ve finally reached my goal. And you,” he gestured to her, “are in the way.”_

_He glimpsed her eyes widening one last time as he dropped the grenade on the payload._

The shooting pain died down to a dull ache in his whole body and he finally looked down to see what the source was. _Shit_.

His leg was mangled, wires coming loose where his ankle joint was pinned underneath the exoskeleton of an Eliksni Walker. They sparked and sputtered, and he could feel where each and every wire grated against the rough-hewn metal.

_Shit, shit, goddamn--!_ He pushed himself up and slipped his hands underneath the Walker, but the hunk of metal wasn’t shifting. Helplessness bubbled up, rotting and cold in his chest.

He was stuck. And he didn’t have a single plan left, at least, not one he could execute with a broken leg.

_He witnessed her horror as he flicked his fingers in a graceful gesture, sickening black energy pouring off his hand and down his arm._

_“The Darkness is truly fascinating to witness, and it does wonders that the Light would never bless you with.”_

He really shouldn’t made that bluff. The now shattered artifact in his pocket, it’s power drained permanently. It was a temporary solution, if only one to help fix his mind for a short while and to get him away from the shitstorm brewing in the Last City.

That was another problem. If Cayde or that other Hunter died there, which really wasn’t his problem, he knew a couple people would hunt him to the ends of the universe for revenge. One of which he tried to blow up in his lab, but oh well.

A ear-piercing screech rippled in the air, and he winced, static crackling in his ears. Around the corner, something was shuffling around and grunting, before it found him. He cursed himself for rambling and tried to pull himself up again despite the pain making his hands tremor.

A scorn, mutated and disfigured, growled angrily as it approached. Its bloated skin was pulled tightly against its skinny body with four long, grotesque arms rearing back in a show of anger. The yellow rusted gleam of its gear reflected back at him ominously. It prowled closer and closer, snarling maw opened wide to show numerous glistening teeth. _How ironic_.

Killed by his own actions. Not a first, but he didn’t expect it to be his last mistake to make.

Another appeared behind the first. Then another. And more poured into the small grove behind the decimated lab. Dozens.

An odd desperation came over him and he felt like screaming. He had assisted them, helped _free_ them--! Why couldn’t they leave him the hell _alone_, like everything else <strike>like everyone else</strike>!

But they found their prey. With chittering shrieks and erratic crawling, the scorn made their way closer, cornering him in. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of his throat and crackled in the air. _The utter irony, he was going to die here, wasn’t he?_

An icy cold feeling flooded his body, a more unfamiliar emotion than the rest. It made his hands tremble worse than before, his ventilation speed up and his attempted movements to get up even more frantic. _No, no, nonono--_

Pain sparked and shot up his leg, still entrapped under a large metal shell as he yanked harshly at it. Agony shorted out his systems and his body convulsed under the stinging ache. His vision blinked out for one second, then two. Sensations faded, and he could feel himself slipping away from consciousness. He teetered on the brink, until he forced himself back, wanting, wishing, _something_ to get back.

The world brightened again, and a gaping mouth swam into view.

Samis tried to yank himself back, but one mutated hand clutched at his sleeve and nearly crushed his arm under the force of the grip. Synthetic nerves flared and he could barely contain a pained gasp before another hand forced its way around his throat and drove him against the Walker behind him.

His leg bent at an unnatural angle and absolute agony poured into every nerve, feeling like someone had chopped it off. He let out a staticky scream and his back arched off of the Walker, trying to pull away. _Well_, he thought, delirious with pain that shot through his system, _that probably wouldn’t feel too bad right now, compared to this_.

Everything was jumbled now. Another hand pinned his other arm to the Walker, holding it above him and straining the joint. He barely felt as it popped out of his shoulder, a slight jolt through his systems was all that showed. The scorn, the lab, Taph, the plan, he had to remember the plan…

His vision blanked out, falling into an inky blackness of pain and nothingness. Something was very clearly wrong, but Samis’s mind was spinning in circles, looping into itself and dodging consciousness like he so desperately wanted. There was something urgent happening.

Samis could barely look now, too much static blurring his eyes and distorting the odd fleshy shape in front of him. There was someone screaming--shrieking? Was it him?--and it rang in his ears. He wanted it to stop. _Stop, stop, please, nononO--_

A blanket of numbness fell over him. The blaring emotions stopped. The new, unfamiliar feelings vanished. All he could do was think. Plan. Watch.

Observe. Plan. Think.

Think.

_Think_.

_Think, think, think, **think, T H I NK.**_

_ **Y OU CANNOT D̶̪̔͑̾̿́ ̸͕̏̽͂͆I̴̡̜̥̟̬̩̼̮̠̟̹̦̪̎̇͊̅̌͜͝ ̴̨̢̫̪̰̘̜͙̤̩͉̘͚̉̆͊̌̈́̔̈́͜͝E̸͕̖͍̻͌́͐͌̃͛̄̇̈́͗͆̏͠ HERE** _

_ **Y O U BELONG TO THE D̴͍̱̤̬̳̙̫̑̚ ̴̧̢̨̨͈͎̳͎̠̤̻̍͜͠Ã̵̙̝̙̪̏͑̾̅̏̒̍̌̎̊̐̚̚ ̵̨̛̩͇̭̎̑͛͋̚R̷̺̮̠̯̤̞̟̣̰̺̐̂̈̀̈́̈̆̈̌̑͘̚͜͝͝ ̴̢̖̠̹͇͙̘͖͙̻̖͍̹͋͐͗͌́̑̓̇̓̄̽̃͝K̵̡̥̐̒̚͘̕ͅ ̷̧̧̘̦̦͈̰̝̦͚̗͑͊̆́̍̓̈́̍̈́́͛̀͜͜͝͠N̶̬͔̓̓́̓̈̽̓̕̕ ̷͖̰̣̹̬̳͖̣͖̰͙̘̩̗̼̊͒̏̓̽̂̈́Ȩ̶̼̤̘̣̻̲͔̃̔̋͂ ̵̢̹̠̪̜̝̊̈́̇̾͝S̸͙̚ ̴̧̢̨̧͖̲͓̥̲̺͈͚̖̝͖͋̄̒͝S̴̡̨̨̝̭̹̭͗͐** _

_ **Y O U BELONG TO U̵̬̣̬̭̖̪̲̫̘̗̬̻̱͌ͅ ̴̧̢̺̍̃̔͒͆̈͗̀͒̽̉̕͝͠Ş̸̛͔̺̹̩͔̺͎͎͓̦͑͑͌̇̈̈́** _

He was so tired.

* * *

They scanned the barren rocky ground of the Tangled Shore. Their job was not done, not by far.

Grave knew of the other events taking place now. Ones more important, far more than one man left dying in an empty plain full of handcrafted creatures. And yet, they knew a lot. They watched for a long time. And this, this was important in its own small, but significant way.

It would mark the turning of time. But for now, they needed to actually _find_ the man they were looking for.

Grave transmatted their sparrow, an old but sturdy model that was big enough to take their weight of armor and body, and cruised on, eyes not missing a single beat. Fallen were crowded the shore for one purpose or another, even more so now that the forces in the EDZ dramatically increased.

Profits for Earth scrap were low, but for Red Legion parts, it would easily triple that amount. Now that the Red Legion were without a true leader, their discoordination is being swept up in Fallen raids and Vex strikes.

But what they were looking for would be far different from the creatures they were used to.

The Scorn, mutated and distorted creatures that once belonged to the Fallen. _The Barons really did use Ether to the best of their abilities. _The monstrosities were created with Dark Ether, reanimated from fallen compatriots. A sickening process, though the Barons didn’t care one way or another and used the process on each other. In an odd way, they formed their own little group in the midst of the Eliksni infighting whilst being undead beings. Grave could think of a few things that were similar.

Grave spoke up, “Ozion.” Their voice was husky and gruff from the decades of disuse, but better than the hoarse whisper they had to deal with during the Red War.

Ozion materialized, wearing a new shimmery black shell he picked himself, hovering slightly above their shoulder. He glanced at them with his one eye, giving them one quick scan and they knew he disproved over them wearing the old armor, but it was out of a habit now, and they shrugged in defense.

“You want me to try and locate his signal?” he mused quietly. They nodded in confirmation and so he floated above their head, flaring out and emitting small pulses of Light. His eye brightened in concentration, and he started looking.

The Light echoed out, washing over the barren lands and looking for a faint spark of the same kind. It searched and searched, until it reached a small asteroid attached near the end of the plains.

Ozion drew himself together and settled back, motioning in that direction. “Northwest, on a separate piece of land attached by a couple cables. It’s getting faint, but it’s over there.”

They nodded to him in approval and waited as he dematerialized to pull out their sparrow and get on. Using the boosters, they raced across the plains, past the dilapidated bases, past the Ketches deploying and the Cabal loading on cargo. The groups tried to catch them, but they easily dodged and continued on by.

The plume of smoke in the distance was easy enough to spot once they got close. They sped up and leapt off, sprinting up to come to an abrupt stop on the edge of the asteroid.

The building was decimated. Large chunks of smoldering metal littered the front of the base, and the entire front wall was missing. Though the laboratory was large, they saw that the explosion was near the center and charred as far as the front end of the building. _By the Traveler, when he said he was prepared to do what it takes, clearly I underestimated him._

Grave shook their head and went forwards, skirting past warped debris and around the corner of the building. They could see each makeshift panel making up the structure of the walls, each part welded together in a patchwork pattern barely holding together. A lot of time was spent on it, and not for nothing. Despite the explosion that ripped the front apart, the back end seemed relatively intact, considering the lack of broken panels and fire.

A loud screech tore through the air. Grave tensed, and Ozion spoke into their ear. “The signal is dead ahead, it--it’s dying out, you _need_ to hurry. A light extinguished is a star missing.”

They clenched their fists and rushed ahead, charging around the large Walker that stood in their way.

Scorn. At least a dozen, or more than that. Their deformed reanimated bodies surrounded the Walker’s head, shoving and snapping at each other in their apparent agitation. They hadn’t ever seen as many since--since the hunt with Petra and Cayde.

That meant the prison break was successful, then. The realization was like a physical blow to their body, but they tried to shake it off and stepped closer to them. One in the center, higher-ranking, by the looks of his size, was looming over something against the Walker.

Samis.

Scorch marks covered his body, his armor in tattered rags and his weapons nowhere to be seen. His arms were pinned to the Walker, two arms of the Scorn holding them in a crushing grip and causing sparks to leap from the plating. His left leg was crushed underneath the Walker, trapping him where he was and leaving him like a downed wolf in a trap. He was unmoving, limp in the grasp of the Scorn.

No sign of life was in his body, no sign of Light. They could see no trace of it on him, not in his veins or in the air.

Arc electrified their veins, new adrenaline pumped through their body. Rage flooded their chest and heated them up, their fists burned with an orange glow. They jumped over the Scorn and positioned themself right in the middle of the undead creatures.

They would _pay_.

With an earthshaking roar, the Knight plunged their fist into the ground and a wave of Arc energy flared out around them. Scorn flew back and tangled on top of one another, some dying on impact from the lethal combination. They would finish this with their bare hands.

They grabbed one and ripped its arm clean from its torso. Tossing it aside, they pounced on the next. A fist through its chest was all it took and they went to the next one. Uttering a battlecry, they summoned their sword and cleaved in an arc, slicing through three at once.

It blurred, ether and blood splattering their helmet and cloaked the battlefield in a glowing grey tint.

But all they saw was the Arc zapping from their fists and the Solar in their blade burning up the enemy until there was nothing left.

Not one got away.

They were left in the middle of the slaughter. Ashes drifted to the floor, and bodies still spasmed with electricity. Ether dripped from their armor. Their heart pounded in their ears and their harsh breathing shook their whole body.

Ozion took over from there. He transmatted their sword away, and materialized, prodding their shoulder. “A warrior never stops until the danger is gone. You need to check on Samis.” He whispered softly. Grave shuddered, but it didn’t stop them from dropping to their knees next to the injured--or dead, their mind helpfully reminded them--Exo.

But he wasn’t dead. His body slumped face-first into the gravel, one arm trapped underneath him while the other sprawled out to the side. His left leg was still twisted horribly from where he was forced upwards, worse than it probably was before the Scorn got there. His ventilation labored heavily in his chest, the whirring loud and shaky. His breaks were still sparking, his arms now had cracked plating that jutted into the wires themselves. They placed a hand on his neck, but he didn’t respond to the touch, his head only lolling to the side.

_Leg first, then fix it all later in a safe place._ Better to do it while he couldn’t feel it either. Could they even attempt to fix it? They knew he wouldn’t be happy to deal with this all later, especially if he had to fix it himself.

Crouching down, Grave braced their shoulder against the Walker head and curled one hand around the bottom, beginning to lift upwards. As they did so, they reached out one hand to pull him out from underneath the Walker. But with a staticky cry of pain, Samis jerked up and away from the Walker, his arms scrabbling in the gravel while his leg dragged uselessly.

\--

_Can’t **think**, can’t breathe--Why can’t I breathe?--I’m broken, No, no nonono--!_

Everything hurt, his systems jammed against one another. They blared at him, the delicate pieces of his body bent and broken, grating against each other as they all tried to work. Moving caused more _pain_, and he slumped against the ground, fingers curling in the rocks. That sent stinging jolts down both of his arms and he flinched.

Something impacted the ground heavily next to him, grinding against the gravel and shrieking in his ears_. _

_The Scorn, screeching in his face, the hands around his arms, run, go, run, run gottagetaway!_ But his body wouldn’t _move_, he couldn’t _see_. _Can’t die, won’t come back--everything hurts, have to run--! _His ears cut in and out, static and white noise blaring through his head uselessly.

“-amis, Samis, can--hear me? The Scorn--gone, it’s---and Grave, we’re here.” That voice was familiar, something nagging at his head, more thoughts rattling in his mind, overprocessing, _overprocessing_.

Grave and who? Who would be with Grave? Grave, Grave, Grave. They were safe, they--help, help_, help, **help**_**\--! **

Something brushed against his arm and he jerked back, a yelp spilling out of his mouth.

The same voice cut back in, soft and soothing to all the static blaring in his ears, “--Samis, it’s---us, I need you to respond if you can hear me. We don’t want to touch you unless you let us.”

It was them. Grave and Ozion. They were here, he was safe? But he wasn’t, he didn’t-- He couldn’t _**think**_**. **But they were here, like they said. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Samis nodded jerkily and reached out, barely wincing as his arm sparked and spasmed. He couldn’t see, but he could hear, hear the gentle whirring of Ozion’s ghost shell near his head, Grave’s sturdy footsteps making their way closer until a hand settled on his shoulder.

Their grip was gentle, but grounding all the same. The tightness in his chest eased and he took several moments to settle in the warmth of another person next to him. His limbs felt like lead weights, but he set one hand on top of Grave’s, and that was enough.

A hoarse voice spoke softly in his ear. “I thought I said to wait before starting anything.” Samis could tell in their tone, the concern wrapped up in guilt and an open note of relief, everything that they really shouldn’t bother feeling for someone like him. He still couldn’t bring himself to draw away from their touch.

He grunted, fumbling around to sit up more, “Y-yeah, well Taph was a lot closer than I had planned for. She already had fi-figured out where the base was, and by that point, you were already on your way so there was n-no point in radioing back.” He tried to reach for their arm, but came up short and had to try again before he touched it.

“You can’t see.” He flinched back openly at their blunt observation, the refusal bubbling up in his throat, but he forced it down with a nod and a bitter laugh.

“One of my many prices to pay if it is permanent.” He muttered to himself, but he knew they were in earshot. They huffed in disapproval, but didn’t push it any further. A groan of bending metal sounded in the air, and he started.

Grave must not have liked what they saw, as they straightened up and hissed. “No time for anything now, we have to get going.” Ignoring his shocked yelp, they looped each arm under his legs and arms, lifting him up effortlessly.

Samis internally cursed his lack of vision, and forced back a cry of pain as his leg was jostled heavily. He grated out, “What is it? What’s happening?”

He heard the sound of their sparrow transmatting and Ozion said quickly, “The Fallen have spotten your destroyed base and us. They are most likely thinking of catching downed prey for more glimmer, a trap of our own making.”

Grave placed him down on the back end of the sparrow while they settled in front. They said apologetically, “You’ll have to use your arms for this, but we need to go _now_. Do you have any other places?”

“Of course. It’s across the whole place, on a separate piece of a-asteroid, but it’s the safest solution ri-right now. I’d say you can’t miss it, but that’s what it was designed for. “ They huffed and boosted forward and Samis was glad to have already wrapped his arms around their torso or he would’ve been flung right off.

Finding the place itself was easier than expected, though the pressure of escaping several Pike Riders and Interceptors helped greatly. Between either group, he’d say they caused more casualties to each other than managing to catch them, but without his vision, he couldn’t say for certain whether that was true or not. _Already a burden, not what I wanted to be after all of this._

He would _fix_ it. That was what he always did, he brought back his memories, lashed himself together time and time again, even if only for a moment. He couldn’t fail. Not again.

Ozion hummed in recognition and Samis assumed he found the entrance. “This is the same mechanism you designed for the base on Earth, is it not?” The ghost murmured in appreciation.

The door was designed the same way a hatch on a ship was designed. Held by a series of electronic and magnetic latches, and sealed for safety. He couldn’t have anything getting in or out, which is why this was his safest. He had to ventilate air from a separate vent leading away from the base underneath the asteroid, but it worked all the same.

“Affirmative. It holds the same basic properties, but having to hide the door was the more difficult part. Get me closer to the wall.” He muttered his thanks when Grave moved closer and Samis was able to brush his hand against the rough stone surface, tracing each bump and curve. His hand still spasmed painfully when he tried to clench all his fingers, but it was enough to find the Hive rune placed in a cleave of stone near the center. He grasped it and pushed until it slid into place. He could hear the door lifting up and sliding to the side, revealing the hallway into the base that he couldn’t see.

Grave strode in, the door sliding shut behind them while they observed the rest of the base. It was small and probably cluttered, Samis didn’t really sort through anything before moving it over here from the laboratory, but at least everything was safe.

They walked and Samis could feel himself being lowered onto the cot that was in the corner of the base, swearing softly at his leg being jostled. Grave murmured an apology and reached out to help him adjust.

He blinked once. Twice. Blurry shapes stood out in front, Samis could see Grave’s form, but not any detailed objects. _Oh_.

“My vision’s coming back.” He muttered, a strange twist in his chest at his realization. If it was, then that meant--

He shoved his line of thinking away and focused on the present, where Ozion was speaking. “--here’s nothing I can do about the injuries, other than referring to repair manuals made by other guardians. You...You still have Light in you, though. It should be able to heal most of the damage and you can repair the rest.” The ghost’s voice was tight and controlled, but he knew what Ozion was hiding.

_Shit_. He lifted an arm up to his eyes to try and study the damage mindlessly while his mind wandered and he gazed off into a distant memory. One that haunted him more than anything else.

There were several moments of silence that went on and on in the empty air of the base. “I need to go, Samis.” Grave whispered hoarsely, standing up.

Nodding slightly, Samis glanced at them and remembered when a sad, naive Titan had come to his door for access to the moon because a desperate little ghost wanted her to. Remembered when she brought back another disoriented, but smart-as-hell warlock who would grumble about his robes like he didn’t have fifty other sets stashed away or that he was awake far too early for one of Taph’s missions.

He remembered the smell of crisp fresh air in the morning, of glowing blue eyes with that gentle look that could rip the air from his lungs, waking in their little base overlooking a large lake surrounded by living forest. Remembered long nights of patrols, laughter echoing in the midnight air as their whole squad bundled up in the chilly night air. Remembered hours of research, Lazarus and Grim side by side as they reached for the next book in the stack. Grumbling warlocks and their hyperactive ghosts. Thoughtful Titans and their stupidly sympathetic looks as he crumbled to the barest bones of his programming. Hunters and their grief.

He remembered the heartbreaking look of desperation and grief entangled in too many other emotions when Grim tried so hard to pull him back one last time, but he just wouldn’t listen. He had _shot him_, though it wasn’t much to a guardian, it was a betrayal. One that ached in his chest, rotting his plating and eating up his wires.

He _remembered_. Just like he wanted to. And that was the shitty part.

All of his desperate scrambling to keep his memories, to get them back, ended up hurting everything more than it helped. All he could think was in numbers, statistics, probabilities. He _hated it_.

He found his solution, and that led to even more problems.

Granted, he had one ally--were they, though? Grave still didn’t make their intentions clear, and probably was one of the most secretive beings he knew--but he also had his old fireteam who hated his guts for abandoning them (which was, admittedly, well-founded since both of them nearly died), his ex-lover who took most, if not all of the backlash for his mistakes, his ex-lover’s angry siblings, one of which he nearly blew up, and the Vanguard.

Not really a good outlook on the future.

_Fuck_. He screwed up a lot, didn’t he?

He lost his Light. Everything that was his Light, and everyone that mattered. And he couldn’t go back.

* * *

Samis pulled an object out of his pocket and turned it over and over in his hands. A nearly imperceptible dark cloud settled over the room, so Grave took their leave to the door, but not without looking back one last time. Quietly, they shut the door and started making their way back to the ship.

_Should I have intervened sooner? Was it too late--_

Their comm suddenly screeched in their ears. “Is anybody around? Come in, come in, this is Fury, there is an emergency at the Prison of Elders! Urgent assistance is needed, a mass breakout has occurred.”

So that was who was after Samis. ‘Fury,’ or Taph, had headed off before they had, no doubt a mission from the Vanguard or another force in the City that sent her out there. Ozion nodded at them and responded. “Copy, this is Ghost Ozion and the Knight, we are nearby, what is your status? Over.” Seconds ticked by.

There was a pause, and Taph continued, “I’m safe and secure, just entering the facility. A guard has notified me that there were two other guardians in here with Petra Venj, but there was a large explosion that they can’t identify in the center of the facility.”

Grave grimaced. They chose what they did today. Turmoil boiled, hot and guilty in their chest, but they swallowed it down. These were the consequences of their actions, what _they_ chose. Now, others would pay.

Ozion said urgently, “Watch out for other inmates, Fury, the Barons were being held there and their scourge of Scorn as well.”

She responded just as quickly, “Understood, Ozion, I am already--_shit!_\--seeing signs of them being free, Scorn are crawling up to the upper floors.” Sounds of gunfire rang through the comms.

Grave had already nodded to Ozion to summon the ship, and they transmatted aboard. “Report, Fury, what do you see?”

Grunts and shrieks spat through the comm, and she took longer than before to reply, “The center of the facility broke and fell to the bottom floor. I am attempting to make contact with the others, but--Petra!”

Another voice came through the comms. “Cousin, you’re here! I don’t know why, but that idiot, Cayde, has shot down a part of the prison to try and cut off the Barons. They have been let loose, and are trying to escape. Syven is making his way down now.”

Taph swore to herself, but it echoed through the comm. Grave pushed full-throttle on the ship and urged it to go faster and faster._ If the Barons escaped, then_\--

Sounds of fighting were dying down, they assumed the others were making their way into the bottom of the prison. It was quiet, only the sounds of breathing and running were heard now.

Taph gasped and started muttering, “No, no _no no no--_” on the comms, and Grave felt the ripple of dying Light on their ship where they were approaching the Prison. “Cayde’s ghost...she’s gone, we _have _to get over there_, now_.”

It was like a vice slipped over their throat and tightened its hand on their lungs. _I did this,_ _I--_

Petra started, “This is it, the last--” On the channel, a single shot rang out.

An agonized wail pierced the comms. It carved its way into their soul and felt like someone shoved glass in their chest. Grave could hear their scrambling grow increasingly more frantic, stumbling over unseen debris. Their hands were numb under the controls. Ozion prodded them, but got no response. The prison loomed into view, burning in shambles.

They could hear a door slide open, rapid footsteps stopped abruptly. They heard Petra whisper, “Oh, _no_\--” before it stopped in a choked gasp. Faintly, there were muttered words and a wordless cry, but they couldn’t make out what was said.

Taph’s wrecked voice came through the channel, grief infusing her words, “Syven? Oh, _Traveler_, Syven, _wait_\--”

The comm crackled in a burst of static, then no more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you liked this Exo boi, you'll be getting another glimpse of him in the future.
> 
> By the way, if you were expecting me to stick to one fandom, you'd be the funniest person in the world for joking like that. I can barely focus on writing this, let alone write for 31 days about the same thing. That's boring.


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